What Wicked Lurks Within (Avengers x Reader)

Chapter 6

"Are you out of your mind? We can't do an open casket! Have you seen the body?" Tony spoke louder than intended, still in the process of getting his wits together. Steve's head hung so low, it was a surprise he wasn't collecting dust off the floor. "The body? Is that what we are calling her now?"

"Yes, the choicing of words is what is important right now, Rogers. It's not like the situation is urgent or anything." Your voice brought you into existence for Natasha and a subtle pattern unfolded itself for her. In her nightmare, as she liked to call it in order to maintain her balance of mind, she had seen Steve die first, his head caved in. That had partially happened.

Second was Tony which, granted, was irrelevant so far but Wanda, that had orchestrated itself in a way which can only be described as gruesome. Natasha did not have to even try to remember whose fate ensued next. "You." She grabbed your hand and yanked hard enough for you to wince. "You stay with me. Do not get out of my sight."

"Okay..." Your outburst melted into poignant caution, "so Tasha has most definitely lost her mind." Steve's anger was peaking, some of it evolving into resentment. "You can't do and say things crucial to the circumstance and then deny any and all explanation! You split my head open in the middle of the night, you say Wanda had no choice but to kill herself and you absolutely maintain she committed suicide regardless of your absence at the scene. Could you answer why to any of those questions?"

Natasha did not offer a reaction to either of you. She continued to hold your hand in a herculean grip, as if someone was lying in wait to snatch you away. "She deserves to be among the ones she loved." Clint solemnly stated.

"How are we supposed to know which dead person she loved? Her family died a continent away. Do you want us to search Hydra files looking for 'special Wanda Maximoff interactions'?" Bucky did not mean to sound so crude and venomous, yet he had. The words that felt so foreign to him had indeed come out of his own mouth.

Sam looked at his team as if he was seeing them for the first time. Everyone was unusually explosive, threatening to combust at the slightest of faults. He had had enough. "Alright, I am going to leave because this conversation is clearly going nowhere. If and when y'all are ready to talk like sane people, call my name. It's a small place where could I possibly go?"

Tony briefly entertained the idea of informing Sam about the unnatural dimensions of the house as he watched him leave and discarded it quickly. 'Who would even believe me.' If only he knew just how many would.

"Guys, I know we are all a little on edge right now but let's try to calm down a bit. We'll do a closed casket here, among the ones she loved that we know of - us, that is." You looked at Clint, seeking his approval, which came in the form of a nod, "And then we will bury her with Pietro." Collective murmurs of agreement filled the room followed by Clint's individual voice. "After we have done that can we...leave? I don't care if the Avengers operate from Tony's Malibu mansion as long as it is not here."

"Yeah, I don't like this place either. It's draining, almost like it's feeding off my energy." Steve had more reasons to agree than he let on. Bucky patted his friend's shoulder as he stood up. "That's a wonderful thing to say when it's dark outside, Steve."

Steve opened his mouth to apologize but decided against it. He was right, he knew it. Something truly did lurk here, something not human. Bucky leisurely walked away, visually obstructed by the staircase, only his distant footsteps audible. Until they were not. Until they died abruptly. "I know I've been alive for well over a century so I might not be the most reliable of all," He called out, "but I am pretty sure this room was not here before."

Considering all that was happening, everyone rushed to him, unwilling to take the slightest of risk. "Of course it was here, Barnes. Your age is catching up with you." Clint clapped Bucky's back. Natasha's eyes went wide and she spoke in a hoarse whisper. "Have you seen it before?"

"No." Clint shook his head, "But come on, how can a whole entire room just appear out of nowhere?" You had a sinking feeling inside, it felt as though the most decrepit creatures creeped in the darkness that lay ahead. Lunging forward, you crossed the threshold and felt for the light switch, flipping it on. A heavy bronze bowl containing dried traces of reddish-brown liquid caught Tony's eye. He reached out to move it, desiring to get a better look at the symbol painted underneath.

"Tony, no, stop!" You were too late. Tony had already lifted the bowl and your hand that was put out to stop him collided against his wrist, as a consequence of which the bowl flew across the room. Irrespective of the fact that no one was hurt Tony glared at you, his gaze demanding answers. "That's... It's..." It was almost as though you did not believe it yourself, "...necromancy."